The Runaway Dagger Bucky Barnes
by Lori-Lori
Summary: Erika Lo Rago is a runaway. To Hydra, her name is Dagger, and she isn't someone to be trifled with. With Hydra wanting their new escaped weapon back, she's got a lot to worry about when it comes to her future. Full Summary inside. Bucky X OC


Blurb: Erika Lo Rago is a runaway. To Hydra, her name is Dagger, and she isn't someone to be trifled with. With Hydra wanting their new escaped weapon back, she's got a lot to worry about when it comes to her future. When two wanted fugitive's meet, they don't pass up the opportunity of gaining a potential ally- but Erika's a much more complicated person than the Winter Soldier thought, and he's not too sure if he wants to be in the cross fire of her past when he's struggling to recover his own.

Book 1 of the Runaway Series

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The shopping mall was as loud as a herd of wildebeest during a migration. The sun sending down its rays through the glass rooftop created shimmers in the fountain beside me. I sat at a white table amidst many others whom took up a small space in the giant food court.

I devoured the Chinese takeaway I had bought; scoffing my face with fried rice, honey chicken, cooked vegetables, sweet and sour pork, and spring rolls. Taking a sip of water to calm the taste of salt on my tongue, I swallowed a piece of chicken with my teeth grit as the piece was still too big to swallow normally. Hunger did that to you. It made you ravage anything you could get your hands on, even if it hurt when you accidentally swallowed something that still had to be chewed.

I covered my mouth as a sickly cough hacked at my throat like I had swallowed a razor. Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes and, covering my face I took in some deep breaths. I blew on my hands to try and keep warm. My stomach burned from the heat of the food I had eaten, but it felt like nothing other than my insides was warm. My flesh, muscles, breasts and veins felt like rivers of ice. My butt felt numb and so did my fingers too.

Winter was horrible. I hated winter. It was awful and I felt like it was the most brutal of the seasons. It seemed to love showing people how beautiful it could be, but when it came to the reality of it all, it was going to kill you, and it wouldn't give a flying fuck if you didn't want it to. It reminded me often of my days in Hydra, and that was something I wanted to forget- so obviously I despised the season even more so.

I remembered it all. The beatings, the harassment, the torture, the hunger, the pain, the injections, the _blood_. More vividly so, I remembered the cold. The metal surfaces of which I always made physical contact with. The walls, the bed, the floor, the doors. It was impossible to get away from their frigid exteriors.

The memories of it shook me to the core. To where the heat all started building, and I almost regretted eating that Chinese. I was horribly uncomfortable with the way I felt. Physically and mentally.

Inside I felt my heart slowly falling to pieces. Like if it were an art piece and if I could look around me and see the pulsing pinks and reds of the walls of my heart from the inside, I would see small fractures of it shattering. Crumbling like there were mini earthquakes coming to slowly take everything of who I was down to the ground where it would burn and freeze in frozen fires.

It killed me to think of how I had gotten the money to buy this food that sat in the pit of my stomach. I'd dropped lower than I'd had ever believed I could. The memory of it ripped my pride to pieces, and more than anything I wanted to throw away the rest of it. I never wanted to sell myself again, but the instinct to survive told me that if I wanted to last longer, then I needed to do whatever it took to keep myself alive.

I clutched my school bag close to me. It, along with my clothes and school books was all I had left of the life I had lived seventeen years ago. It wasn't much of an uplifting life to begin with, but after what I went through with Hydra? I wanted it back.

To go back to high school. To go back to being the kid that the other kids always picked on. To go home to a younger brother that demanded my attention, and to my mother and father who never stopped fighting. To that single bed that was too small for my tall body. I wanted that life back so bad.

Where were they now? I wondered. Had they given up hope in finding me? Would I ever get back to them?

I whimpered against the cloth of my black bag, keeping it close to my heart as if it would maybe hold the shatter pieces inside. Theoretically if it did, then I would protect this bag with my life. I would never let a soul come near it, and I would kill anyone who tried to touch it. It was what I intended to do for the rest of my life, because I was already so torn. I couldn't let the last pieces of myself die if I still had life in me.

Still I shivered. Grim and sweat matted what little hair I had on my head. I could feel the dirt on my skin, and I knew I smelt horrible too. The pleasure of a shower wasn't something I'd had since I'd come to the city. I couldn't exactly knock on someone's door and ask to use their shower. I'd terrify them before I'd even get the chance to speak. I knew after all that I looked like a monster.

At least I was unrecognizable I thought. Hydra wouldn't spot me no matter where I went, and I was sure of that.

Something tapped my shoulder.


End file.
